


I like apples, but I like you more

by S_Horne



Series: Stony September AUs [30]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Baker Tony Stark, Bakery and Coffee Shop, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark Friendship, M/M, Painfully shy, Shy Tony Stark, Sweet Bruce Banner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 17:49:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16142369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/S_Horne/pseuds/S_Horne
Summary: “Hi, James,” Steve called as he pulled off his gloves and shoved them in his pocket. “Got any of your muffins left this morning?”“Hi, Steve,” Rhodey said as he flicked the button on the espresso machine. “There’s a whole tray just about to come out of the oven.”“All for me?”“Aren’t they always?”Steve laughed as he reached the counter and fished out his wallet. “Your baking keeps me alive, James, I swear it does. I couldn’t get through the day without something from your kitchen.”Because there was that. Steve didn’t know that Tony existed.Steve thought that Rhodey was the one who did all of the baking of the goods – which was quite frankly laughable – whilst Tony hid in the back every time that the man walked through the door.He also stared wistfully through the small window to the kitchen, but Tony definitely never went outside to talk to any of his customers. No way.





	I like apples, but I like you more

**Author's Note:**

> 30\. Bakery
> 
> Guys, I can't believe I made it. (I'm gonna cry at you all in the end notes so watch out)

Tony liked to bake. That was a fact that had surprised everyone he knew, but he did. As a child he had excelled in all things science, even going to college and getting a PhD in engineering, but he’d gone back to his first love as soon as he had graduated. His parents’ untimely deaths had provided him with the funds he had needed to open his own shop. It was a strange place, a bakery in New York decorated with posters of scientists and equations, but Tony loved it more than anything. His love had shown and before too long, he had built up a long list of regulars and a reputation within the neighbourhood.

The bell above the door tinkled and Tony held back his sigh. Speaking of regulars, here was his favourite.

“Hi, James,” Steve called as he pulled off his gloves and shoved them in his pocket. “Got any of your muffins left this morning?”

“Hi, Steve,” Rhodey said as he flicked the button on the espresso machine. “There’s a whole tray just about to come out of the oven.”

“All for me?”

“Aren’t they always?”

Steve laughed as he reached the counter and fished out his wallet. “Your baking keeps me alive, James, I swear it does. I couldn’t get through the day without something from your kitchen.”

Because there was that. Steve didn’t know that Tony existed.

Steve thought that  _Rhodey_ was the one who did all of the baking of the goods – which was quite frankly laughable – whilst Tony hid in the back every time that the man walked through the door.

He also stared wistfully through the small window to the kitchen, but Tony definitely never went outside to  _talk_ to any of his customers. No way.

/

Another day, another visit from Steve. He was looking just as beautiful as ever in his insanely fitted suit and his flushed cheeks from the cold.

Tony sighed as he pulled open the door to the oven, listening as Rhodey laughed heartily at something Steve was telling him. How he wished he could be the one to go out there and listen to Steve’s stories, be the one to hand Steve his daily coffee and baked treat, but his stupid stutter and fear of people in general held him back.

“You like apples, don’t you?”

Tony could have answered Rhodey’s question – and yes, that didn’t escape his notice of how creepy he was. Steve had only mentioned his love of apples in passing around Halloween time, but Tony had heard it. (Stalker.)

“Yeah,” Tony heard Steve say happily, “I love them. Could eat them all day, every day.”

“Well you’re in luck then. We have a new sort of pastry – apple and cinnamon turnover. We’re also working on apple and chocolate muffins, but I’m not sure about those myself.”

Tony nearly laughed out loud. For someone ‘not sure’ about them, Rhodey had sure eaten enough when Tony had been experimenting. Rhodey had tried to join in the baking as well, but after he’d broken two bowls, burnt a batch of cookies beyond recognition and added salt instead of sugar, Tony had kicked him out of his kitchen.

“Really?” And that was why Tony had spent so long on new recipes; the blatant excitement in Steve’s voice over something as small as a muffin made with his favourite fruit. “You’re making apple muffins?”

“Sounds like something you could like?”

“Yes! Do you have any?”

When Rhodey laughed, Tony blushed bashfully. “Come back tomorrow,” Rhodey promised him, “and they’ll be out. Warm from the oven or chilled?”

Tony could just imagine the way that Steve was staring at Rhodey with a judgemental expression, eyebrow lifted high and mouth twisted. “That’s not a question. I thought you were meant to be a baker.”

Laughable. Totally laughable.

“Warm from the oven it is.”

/

“You can come out, you know.”

Tony scoffed lightly as he squeezed his icing bag, concentrating on the lines he was drawing on the buns in front of him.

“You can,” Rhodey continued lightly, “he doesn’t bite. None of them do, actually. They’re all pretty normal.”

Normal. That much was true. It was Tony who wasn’t normal.

“Yes, you are.” Tony sighed and shook his head. Damn Rhodey for being such a good friend and a mind reader. “You’re shy, you idiot, not broken.”

“I don’t do people,” Tony said and cursed when a splot of icing fell out of the bag and ruined his perfectly straight lines. “I do cakes and batter. They don’t argue back and they don’t expect me to talk to them.”

“But you do.”

Tony couldn’t help his smile and rolled his eyes when Rhodey walked over to him and nudged him playfully.

“Are you going to give me a therapy session all morning, or are you going to help me?”

/

Tony wanted to cry. Both Rhodey and Pepper had called in sick and his other workers were all good college students who actually attended classes and Tony didn’t want to corrupt them by ringing and asking them to skip a day. Tony could manage, if he actually tried.

He just didn’t want to. Customer service didn’t come easily to him; there was a reason that he stayed in the kitchen.

Tony was standing behind the counter, knuckles turning white where his hands were balled into fists as he concentrated on keeping calm.

“Morning, James.”

Oh, God. Tony was going to die. He was going to keel over in embarrassment or spontaneously combust of sheer arousal. There was a moment of silence as Tony tried to get his mouth to work that caused Steve to look up and jolt a little.

“Oh,” he said in surprise, “you’re not James.”

“No,” Tony finally managed to choke out, “he, um – Rhodey’s got the flu.”

“Rhodey?”

“James,” Tony explained with a wave of his hand. “I’ve never called him that though. Only, only his grandma ever does. Oh, and you do... so you and her, I guess.”

Oh,  _God._ Why did Tony ever talk? Seriously  _why._

Steve grinned and nodded. “I’ve got a James like that,” he said and Tony’s heart sank. Of course Steve had a partner. Tony was lucky that he was even gay – he hadn’t been sure. “He’s been my best friend since we could walk and I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve called him ‘James’ and not Bucky.”

Oh. Best friend. Tony could work with that. But he had no clue how to reply to that now and the hairs on the back of his neck began to lift the longer he stood there without talking. His palms began to sweat and he was about 3 seconds from turning tail and fleeing to the sanctuary of his kitchen when Steve cleared his throat delicately and his smile softened.

“So, can I get a coffee?”

Tony could have sobbed and nodded in relief as he turned his back on Steve to fiddle with the coffee machine. “Black or white?”

“Black, please. With caramel if I can?”

“Sure.” That gave Tony an extra few seconds to face away from Steve, so he could have all the damn flavourings that he pleased. “Anything else?”

Ha. As if Steve would go a morning without some sort of sweet treat.

“Yes, please,” Steve said as he walked the few steps over to the glass cabinet. “Did James, um, Rhodey that is, get a chance to make any apple things before he went off?”

Tony bit his lip hard enough to hurt as he tried to think of a response. This would have been his chance to tell Steve that he was the baker, not Rhodey. But then again, boasting was a sin and such a confession would only lead to questions.

Questions that Steve would ask and Tony would have to answer. So…

“We have some left, I think, yeah. They won’t, I – they aren’t fresh out of the oven though, sorry.”

Tony had been splitting his time between the front of house and the kitchen that morning so he had done most of his baking first thing in the morning instead of breaking it up over a few hours like he usually did. He had done the same amount of baking that was needed to see him through the morning and lunch hour rush, but the goods were already out of the ovens.

“That’s fine,” Steve said and when Tony turned around, his smile was enough to make Tony nearly drop the takeaway cup of coffee in his hand. “They’re good any way you eat them, right?”

“Huh?” Tony spluttered intelligently.

“Oh.” Steve coloured as he accepted the coffee Tony was holding out. “I just assumed you would have tried them.”

“Oh,” Tony repeated. “Yeah – I did, have… They’re, um, they’re good. I prefer chocolate though, to the apple, but…”

“Like the cookies? Oh man, they’re sinful. Seriously amazing. I don’t know how you can work here and still turn a profit. I would have zero self-control and just eat everything. My visits here once a day are sending me to the gym for an extra workout a week now, but I just can’t stop myself.”

Tony smiled as he rang up Steve’s order and accepted his card, swiping it quickly. He could listen to Steve ramble on for hours.

“Well,” Steve said when the bell over the door rang and a queue started behind him. “I’d better head to the office.” He hesitated for a moment before he caught his lip between his teeth. “Will I see you tomorrow?”

Tony swallowed around a choke and flushed. “I, well – I think Rhodey might be, might be back. If not then, yes?”

Steve smiled at Tony’s stuttering, the softness of it making Tony’s heart pound a little louder in his chest. “As much as I hope that James will get well, I would also very much like to see you again.”

Tony’s mouth dropped open and he could do nothing but stare at Steve as he gathered his treats and left.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why Tony Stark hides from people. What the hell was he meant to do with that?

/

“Four days?”

_“It’s not like I orchestrated this,”_ Rhodey told him as Tony tried to catch his breath. _“I have the flu, remember?”_

“Yeah, but four days! I need you here! I am a baker; I bake things. I do not talk to people.”

_“You can do this, Tones. It’s only four days. I don’t do Saturdays anyway, and you only do the kitchen, so that’s one less day to worry about, and then I’ll be back on Monday.”_

Tony bit his lip and tried not to break down in tears. Rhodey was right. It was four days of people and then he could go back into hiding. He could do this.

Could he?

_“Tones, you still there?”_

Tony swallowed and took a deep breath to steady his voice. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m still here. I can do this. Or I could just close for this week?”

Rhodey’s bark of laughter quickly turned into a hacking cough and Tony winced. “I’m sorry, Rhodes. I’ll be okay. You just worry about you, okay?”

_“I know you will,”_ Rhodey told him, his voice horribly stuffed up. _“They’re only people.”_

/

_They’re only people,_ Tony told himself as he unlocked the door and flicked the sign over to open. It was his second day of being at the front of house completely on his own and he wanted to go back to bed and pretend it was all a bad dream.

Until the bell tinkled and in walked Steve with his smile in full force. His smile only grew when he drew close to the counter and saw Tony standing there twisting his hands together.

“Morning,” Steve said and Tony jumped.

“Oh, hi. Morning. Good morning.”

“How’s James doing?”

Tony turned his back on Steve to grab a takeaway cup and flicked on the coffee machine. “He’s okay. I spoke to him yesterday, but he won’t be back until Monday.”

“I hope he’s okay. The flu is vicious; I had it so many times when I was a kid.”

Tony hummed. What was he meant to say back to that? As he was thinking of his reply, Steve cleared his throat.

“So, breakfast?”

Tony’s heart sank. He’d taken far too long to reply and Steve had gotten creeped out. People came into a bakery for food, not conversation with an awkward baker.

“Right. Your usual?”

“Yes please,” Steve said. There was a pause as Tony headed over to the display case before Steve spoke again. “Wait. You know my usual?”

Tony froze. Oh _crap._ “Um,” he started awkwardly. There was no way out now. He took a deep breath and lifted his head to face Steve. “No?”

Steve stared at him and Tony coloured. _Abort, abort, abort,_ his brain was screaming at him. “I just meant, well… you said something about apples yesterday?”

“Oh.” Was that disappointment on Steve’s face? No, it couldn’t be. Or was it? Tony was going crazy. _Get him back in the kitchen_. “I just thought you’d maybe… Well, no. Apples. Yeah, I like apples.”

Tony relaxed minutely and picked up the tongs to reach for the fruit pastry he’d put aside earlier that morning, cursing when his hand shook. He shoved the treat in the brown bag as fast as he could and practically shoved it at Steve, turning to fix the man’s coffee when the machine beeped at him.

“C-caramel again this morning?” _Crap._ He was meant to be proving that he _wasn’t_ a stalker and there he’d gone again, remembering a stranger’s order.

“Yes, please. It’ll soon be time to switch to peppermint, though.”

Tony twisted his head to look over his shoulder, his mouth open as he stared at Steve, aghast. “Peppermint? In a coffee?”

“Yes,” Steve said with a laugh. “Don’t look at me like that. A peppermint mocha is the best way to kick off the Christmas season.”

“Heathen.” Tony grabbed a lid for the coffee and wrapped a few napkins around the cup before he handed it over to Steve. “Don’t try and order that in my shop.”

Steve laughed and handed Tony his card in exchange for the coffee. “Rhodey would let me order it.”

“N-not, not when I tell him not to.”

Taking his card back, Steve winked at Tony. “Don’t knock it until you try it.”

And how on earth was Tony’s brain meant to work after that?

/

 “Morning, darling!”

Tony couldn’t help but smile when the bell went as the door was pushed open. “Morning, Bruce,” Tony laughed as the man entered his shop with a tired wave.

When Bruce neared the counter, he collapsed over it and stared up at Tony with wide, imploring eyes. “I need a coffee and one of your perfect muffins.”

“Oh, you big flirt.”

At Bruce’s wink, Tony shook his head fondly and spun on his heel to turn on the coffee machine. Bruce was so easy to talk to; literally the only customer that Tony could deal with at any time of the day without needing any forewarning. Tony had known him since they were in college and when Tony had opened his shop, Bruce was one of his first customers.

“How did those apple things turn out?” Bruce asked as he dropped his laptop bag on a nearby table and pulled out a chair. “Did you manage to get the right blend?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Tony said. “Do you want to try one? I’ve got cinnamon buns with apple and apple and chocolate muffins. I think I might have some turnovers left too.”

“Hm. Sounds like you went all out.”

“It took me a while to figure out the right balances, but they seem to be a hit. I’m looking at cranberry options for Christmas now.”

“You baked all of those things?”

Tony startled wildly at the new voice, hot coffee spilling over his hand. He cursed wildly as he grabbed a handful of napkins to dab at his burnt skin.

“I’m sorry! God, Tony; I didn’t mean to–”

Tony shook his head as he wiped his hand and blew on the injury. “No, no. It was m-me. I didn’t hear you c-come, come in.”

“The door was open,” Steve explained, hovering by the counter with his hands stretched out. “The bell didn’t ring, I’m sorry.”

“No; oh, ouch.” Steve winced at Tony’s sharp curse and Tony waved his hand in the air. “It’s my fault. I’m so damn jumpy. Sorry, what did you say?”

“You made those things? All of the treats, for all these months? I though Rhodey did them.”

Bruce laughed loudly and Steve’s head shot to him. “You thought _Rhodey_ made…?” Bruce didn’t finish his sentence as his chuckles grew louder and Tony rolled his eyes.

Steve turned back to Tony and lifted an eyebrow. “Rhodey didn’t make anything, did he?”

Tony sighed and shook his head, dropping his gaze to the red patches on his hand. “N-n-no,” he finally spat out. “I made them all.”

“Wow. You really… wow.”

An awkward silence fell over the bakery, only broken by Bruce’s continued laughter. As soon as the coffee machine beeped, Tony turned to it and filled up two cups very carefully. He turned around and placed them both on the counter, nodding to Bruce who quickly jumped up and took one.

Steve hesitated for a moment more before he took his, his hands dancing up and down the cardboard sleeve as his gaze settled on the side of Tony’s face. “So, when I said that I liked apples, you…”

Tony froze and his eyes dashed over to Bruce’s in a clear panic. Bruce smiled at him reassuringly and stepped forward, lowering his voice as he held Tony’s gaze.

“He’s only a person, my darling.” With that, he lifted his cup in a mock salute and gave a smile to Steve before gathering his things and leaving. As he reached the door, he looked back at Tony and winked, the small action soothing Tony’s pounding heart minutely.

Tony took a deep breath when the door closed and closed his eyes for a moment. He could do this. People were only _people._ Tony was people. This wasn’t hard. It had been a week of him and Steve and these little moments, the two of them joking and possibly toeing the line of flirting? Steve was just a person and Tony could tell him things.

“Yes.” Wow. Just like that. Rip off the band aid. “I bake the things and I do it in the kitchen.”

Breathing. Right. Breathing was a thing that people needed to do. “I, it would… You can h-hear things in the kitchen and I… I noticed you when you started c-coming in.”

He could admit that. This wasn’t that bad. Tony could manage this; even if he was telling his shaking hands with a voice that sounded like sandpaper. “When you first came in, I was in the kitchen and I saw you through the window. And then, then you kept c-coming in and you would t-t-talk to Rhodey and, and I sort of liked you?

“When you t-told him you liked apples, I thought I… I thought it would be nice to do something for, for you. I’m sorry.”

There was a long silence when Tony finished talking and it took every bit of strength he had to keep his tears at bay and his knees locked so they didn’t give out. Eventually Steve cleared his throat and Tony winced.

“Why are you sorry?”

Tony’s head snapped up and he stared at Steve incredulously. “What? Why am I sorry? Did you not hear what I said?”

“Yes,” Steve said, “I heard it all. You made me some baked goods with my favourite fruit. What’s wrong with that?”

“What’s…” Tony’s eyebrows hit the ceiling. “What’s wrong with that? I practically stalked you from my kitchen.”

Steve smiled fondly and pushed his coffee out of the way to rest his hands palms-up on the counter. “I appreciate the effort, Tony. I just wish I’d known they were from you all along.”

Tony was lucky he could even hear the words coming from Steve’s mouth with the way that his heart was pounding in his chest and his head was screaming at him. “You, you what?”

“Don’t think I noticed the way you wrinkle your nose every time you have to put one of those in a bag. You hate apples, don’t you?”

When Tony’s mouth just moved wordlessly, Steve chucked. “You hate apples and you made me apple muffins. You’re something else, Tony, you really are.”

Tony’s eyes dropped down to Steve’s hands still lying flat on the counter before they went back to his face, anxiously searching for something. There was another moment of silence before Tony took a deep breath and let it out slowly, his hands reaching out glacially slowly until his fingertips tickled Steve’s palms. When Steve didn’t move away, Tony got a little braver and placed his hands flat over Steve’s.

Huh.

Steve’s face lit up and Tony’s heart just about gave up.

Maybe people weren’t so bad, after all.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm done! 
> 
> Thank you for still reading these and for such lovely, lovely comments. I can't believe I wrote 30 fics in a month and managed to actually put one up every day. (That is a big thing for me so I'm pretty chuffed.) I'm tempted to do another one of these even though this has literally killed me and I swore to myself I wouldn't do it again. So again, thank you for the support, the kudos and the comments. You're amazing people. 
> 
> [I have a tumblr](http://s-horne.tumblr.com/) and I love new people!


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